The Bethany Sibs

Memorial of Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus
July 29, 2026

Today, we pray with three fascinating friends of Jesus: Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. Let’s shake them out of the Bible today and let them live in our imaginations.

The three are usually named in the above order, inviting us to imagine Lazarus as the younger brother of two unmarried older sisters.

Martha, likely the oldest, is the most practical. Mary, the middle sister, is the romantic, wrapped in tales of perfumed hair, contemplative sitting, and tearful pleading. Lazarus, who has little to say in scripture, actually looms large in their story!


Thinking about the Bethany trio today, I remember a similar family from my childhood neighborhood. Helen, Agnes, and Mickey O’Rourke were amazingly like the Bethany Sibs in many ways. 

Helen, the oldest, had become a young and childless widow many years before I knew the family. By the 1950s, she was elderly, but still meticulously kept the home while the younger two worked. 

Agnes was about a decade younger and had a long career as a Bell Tell operator. She once spoke of wanting to become a Pink Sister, one of the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters whose monastery stood not far from our neighborhood.

Mickey, in his 40s, was a police officer who was known to enjoy his bachelorhood.


The O’Rourkes were devoted to one another. When Agnes was widowed, the other two assumed loving responsibility for her. In turn, Agnes, always the most vigilant and practical of the three, undertook responsibility for their guidance. 

The three kept a hospitable home where neighbors enjoyed their easy camaraderie and delightful Irish wit. They shared a happy, supportive, and generous life.

Then Mickey was shot and killed by a drunken reveler on New Year’s Eve.


Think about the devastation in his sisters’ hearts. Think about the deadly silence that fell upon their joyful home.  Think about their neighbors’ fumbling efforts to offer help or hope.

It was into a grief like this that Jesus arrived one ancient afternoon in Bethany. Read about it in John, chapter 11.


This story offers so many points for meditation and prayer. You know where your heart softened at the story of the O’Rourkes. Maybe that is where your prayer should rest today as you ponder the Bethany family. 

  • Did Helen’s early widowhood touch your heart — her possible loneliness, blessedly softened only by the love of her siblings? Then pray with Martha.
  • Did Agnes’s quiet self-sacrifice move you — setting aside religious life to sustain her family? Then pray with Mary.
  • Did Mickey’s sudden death awaken memories of your own losses? Then pray with Lazarus.
  • Was it the shock and sadness of those who so helplessly wanted to heal the hurtful situation? Then pray with the unnamed neighbors whose remarks pepper the bible account.
  • But give these first prayers only short attention. Let your real meditation engage your feelings when you hear the words, “Lazarus, come forth!”, and you see the funeral bindings start to fall! Is there something dead in you that longs to rise again?

The O’Rourke sisters did not have their brother restored in the way that Lazarus was restored. But finally, their deep faith did revive their joy and unshakeable trust that they would all meet again in God’s time.

All these very real people offer us encouragement for our own faith and spiritual resilience. Why not spend some time with them?


Music: Come Out, Lazarus – Stephen McWhirter

The Sacred Passage

Good Friday
April 3, 2026

All life is about journey and passage.

At some time in each of our lives, we yearn to pass:

  • from emptiness to abundance
  • from loneliness to love
  • from exhaustion to renewal
  • from anxiety to peace
  • from burden to freedom
  • from confusion to understanding
  • from bitterness to forgiveness
  • from pain to healing
  • from mourning to remembrance

The sacred mystery of Good Friday assures us that God accompanies us in our torturous journeys. But we must name whatever darkness surrounds us, and reach through it to the hand of God outstretched from the Cross. Like a parent leading a child in from the storm, the God of Resurrection longs to bring our hearts home with Him to Easter joy.


Music: When I Remember – Kevin Kern

Suggested Scripture: John 14:2-3

For Your Reflection:

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Love Anoints Us

March 29, 2026
Palm Sunday

Purity of heart is to be without guile, hidden agendas.
It is to be honestly intentioned in our actions and words.


During Holy Week, a fundamental question comes before us. How should the precious oil be used – tenderly poured out or reasonably saved? It is a question that challenges us to balance justice with mercy, reality with hope, law with passion, to be pure of heart. How are we being asked to open our alabaster jar?

After Peg’s father died, she rummaged through parts of his house preparing it for sale. When Peg was a child, the bottom drawer of the china closet was always her dad’s exclusive domain. She prepared to open it now like a priest approaching the sacred altar. Inside, Peg found the normal treasures stored against a rainy day: rubber bands, expired coupons, Band-aids, and a Swiss Army knife.


In an old wallet, she discovered a forgotten twenty-dollar bill and a creased, browning paper. Unfolded, the note revealed a 1960’s Christmas shopping list. Beside Peg’s name was scribbled “skates, pajamas and Slinky.” Beside her mother’s name, there was a single phrase: “Chanel N°5.”


Peg’s middle class family avoided extravagance. With four children, they could not afford it. Her father’s one excursion into luxury was to anoint her mother with this prized perfume. The annual act released a balm of silent devotion between them redeeming any of the year’s frayed misunderstandings.


During Holy Week, we see Mary anoint Jesus’s feet with costly aromatic nard. We watch Jesus kneel to pour a sacred blessing over his disciples’ feet. We experience God’s lavish mercy wash over us in blood and water, in sacrament and sacrifice. These acts draw us into God’s infinite, unquenchable love.

Our names have been folded eternally into God’s heart. An extravagant mercy has been given for us. This week, walking with Jesus from the supper table, through the garden and on to Calvary, may we embrace the deep anointing of God’s Passion for us. May it redeem us and open us to full Easter joy!


Music: Agnus Dei – Monks of the Abbey of Notre Dame

Suggested Scripture: Philippians 2:1-11


For Your Reflection:

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Our Saints

November 1, 2025

Often, we see someone more clearly in death than we do in life.

One Sunday, nearly 25 years ago, our religious community gathered to commemorate the precious life of our Sister Germaine Donohue. Germaine, who was more familiarly called Mercedes (Mercy), was one of our missionaries in Peru. She was vivacious, compassionate, holy, and too young to die. While ministering in our remote mountain home village of Pacaipampa, Peru, this marathon runner who loved to dance suffered an unexpected heart attack. By the time the neighboring villagers brought her down the eight-hour descent to Lima, she lived only a few more hours. It was All Saints Day.

At her funeral liturgy, the legacy of love she had quietly planted throughout her life blossomed like a field of vibrant wildflowers. Listening to stories that spanned the 40 years of her religious life, it was easy to see how consistently she chose to be with others in simplicity, honesty, and joy. It became clear that everything in her life had led her to a remote mountain village among the poor, who perfectly mirrored her deepest values. They were her heart’s companions.

Just like producing a prize-winning garden, bringing one’s life to such a degree of simplicity and beauty is no easy task. As human beings, we are constantly battling the weeds of self-interest and the complexity it breeds. But when, like Germaine, we choose to learn from those who are poor, we can grow in our capacity to trust a Power greater than ourselves to sustain our lives. We thus become freer to celebrate the beauty of others and of life around us.

For their first ten years in Pacaipampa, our Mercy community had been laboring — without success – to bloom roses in their tiny garden. When the sisters returned from Lima with Sister Germaine’s body to bury her among her beloved poor, they were greeted with the miracle of the first Pacaipampa rose. It blossomed there, a new life among the simple “pueblos jóvenes”. Perhaps they named that rose “Mercedes”.

I share the story of Sister Germaine’s passing because I hope it will offer you the gift it gave to me. The slow, daily, and sometimes frustrating work of building our lives around truly important values will — in the long run — transform and bless us. In everyday decisions, it is difficult to get enough perspective always to realize that. But when our lives are gathered someday in the story-telling of our children, our friends, and our communities, may we be fortunate enough to have left a legacy of beauty — our own miracle “rose”.


Music: El Condor Pasa

This song, popularized by Simon and Garfunkel, is actually drawn from a Peruvian folk song.

For Your Reflection

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Scripture: Proverbs 31 (Adaptation)

Who can find a merciful woman?
She is worth far more than rubies.
Her community has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
She brings them good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
She gets up while it is still night;
she provides food for her neighbors
and portions for the very poor.
She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
She sees that her work is fruitful,
and her lamp does not go out at night.
In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.
When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her beloved community
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her neighbors arise and call her blessed;
her family also praises her:
“Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman of mercy is to be praised.
Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the heavenly gate.

October Blue

October 14, 2025

That long-ago October was particularly brilliant. It was one of those rare seasons where each morning was filled with sunshine and promise. It was a month that measured up to the poet, Helen Hunt Jackson’s, description:

O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October’s bright blue weather.


I remember that October so well because one of my friends was dying, stricken suddenly and irrevocably by a severe pneumonia. Only two of us could visit at a time, so I, along with her many other friends, would gather at times on the bench outside the hospital where she struggled to survive. We would watch that bright blue sky and turn over and over in our minds those questions that have no answers. Why so young, why now, why her?


Starling Murmuration – Joe Hisaishi

Flocks of starlings were in their seasonal dance, bold against that brilliant blue sky. Maybe you have noticed a few already this month, swerving through the air in their perfectly balanced helix, like smoke at the wind’s disposal. I remember watching them during that distant October, wondering if we had told Gail often enough how precious she was. She was a small, humble, and joyous person – very quiet and unassuming. I wondered if people fully understood the powerhouse of generosity and goodness underneath that humility.


Gail De Macedo, RSM
August 11, 1937 – October 14, 1995

I found the answer at her funeral. Hundreds of people jammed the lanes to our Motherhouse and filled the chapel with their song to celebrate her life. She had quietly made her mark – and what a mark it was! Now, years later, the sharp edge of her loss has dulled somewhat, but her bold, quiet, courageous legacy has only deepened. In times when I need the gifts of humility, patience, generosity, and kindness, I pray to her. She always helps me.

Over this weekend, we should begin to see that “bright blue weather”. Watch for the graceful starlings, pirouetting their way to a winter refuge. Above all, as you wonder at Creation, reflect on love and kindness. Honor these virtues where you find them in yourself and your neighbors. They endure beyond all seasons.


Music: No More Goodbyes – Tom Dermody

For Your Reflection

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Scripture: Revelation 21:1-4

Healing

October 2, 2025


Artwork by Judy Ward, RSM

Today, for your reflection, a poem I wrote decades go. I offer it today in memory of Judy Ward, RSM who passed away on September 27, 2025. Her life will be celebrated on October 2nd in a Mass of Christian Burial in the chapel at Mt. St. Mary, where Judy attended school, became a Sister of Mercy, and taught for many years.

Judy, a gifted artist, did so much to encourage me and to illustrate and promulgate my work. I will miss her generous kindness and her friendship.


October is a time when nature changes clothes.
Leaves, like miniature volcanoes, flare up and die, ashes at the foot of a silent, seemingly immortal tree.
Geese, having dawdled all summer in veiled expectation, suddenly leap into the clouds and disappear.
These solemn miracles may incline us to consider our own impermanence and the gossamer phenomenon we call life.


Healing


Music: A Playlist of Autumn Music

For Your Reflection

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Scripture: Psalm 104

Autumn Begins

September 22, 2025

I hope that, where you live, it is a glorious day – a perfect vestibule to a season of amazing beauty.  In the northern hemisphere, Nature prepares to shed the plush accretions of summer in a multi-colored ritual of leave-taking. It is time to return to the essentials – back to the branch, back to the buried root, back to the bare, sturdy reality that will anchor us in eventual winter.

Each day, some green leaf or blade will ignite like a phoenix – a blaze of scarlet or gold, only to extinguish that flame for a long winter’s sleep. Nature knows when things are finished.  It knows when it has had enough.  It knows its need for a season of emptying, for a clearing of the clutter, for the deep hibernation of its spirit.

But we humans often ignore the need for an “autumning” of our spirits.  We try to live every moment in the high energy of summer – producing, moving, anticipating, and stuffing our lives with abundance.  

But simplicity, solitude, and clarity are necessary for our spirit to renew itself.  Autumn is the perfect time to examine prayerfully the harvest of our lives – reaping the essentials and sifting out the superfluous. In the quiet shade of a rusting tree, we may discover what we truly love, deeply believe, and really need to be fully happy.

Take time on these crystal days to ask yourself what is essential in your life.  If something besides them inhibits you, let it go.

Nurture your “essentials” with attention and care.  Don’t take them for granted.  After the flare of life’s summer has passed, these are the things that will sustain you: a strong faith, a faithful love, and a loving compassion. Tend them in this season of harvest


Music: The Four Seasons: Autumn – Antonio Vivaldi

For Your Reflection

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Scripture: James 5:7-8

A Crane in the Desert

August 6, 2025

Today is the 80th anniversary of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki

Dona Nobis Pacem – Yo-Yo Ma and Illia Bondarenko

On a hot August 6th over 40 years ago, I sat quietly in the Nevada desert just outside Las Vegas. Most maps call the place the Nevada Test Site. Established as the Atomic Energy Commission’s on-continent proving ground, the Nevada Test Site has seen multiple decades of nuclear weapons testing.

But to the native peoples, the land is known as Newe Sogobia (Earth Mother), or the Western Shoshone homelands.

I had come to the place with over 200 other peace activists to pray for the end of nuclear wars, bombings and weapons proliferation. As part of our prayer, each one of us found a private spot in that massive desert where we could sit alone to meditate. I rested by a low bush to capture its small shady triangle in the dry, threatening heat even of that early morning.

At first, to the unappreciative eye, the desert seems a monochromatic place. The earth, the few stones, the sparse vegetation all appear to wear a beige garment of anonymity – almost as if they are saying, “Don’t see me. Don’t change me by noticing me.” But after many minutes of peeling away the multiple blindfolds we all carry, I became aware of muted majesty breaking from that desert like tender life from an egg.

A tiny hummingbird, the color of slate and sand, hovered inches from my hand. It drew my eyes to another small white object hidden under the lowest branches of the bush. It was a perfectly executed origami crane, no bigger than my thumb. I learned later of the Japanese activists who had preceded us into the desert, and whose custom it was to leave behind these beautiful “peace cranes” as mute reminders of the horrors of Hiroshima and of the hope for universal peace.

Later that evening, thinking about the cranes, I found myself straddling a confusing range of emotions. In the late 40’s and 50’s, I had grown up in a household that despised Japan. On my mother’s birthday in 1945, her 19 year old brother had been killed at Iwo Jima. It was a scar my mother bore the rest of her life.

But as with many scars we have earned or inherited in life, the years had taught me that there is an inner grace to every pain. Holding one of the delicate cranes, I thought about the innumerable Japanese lives – mostly innocent civilians – that had been lost or disfigured on August 6, 1945. I thought about the fact that life is never served by war – whether that war is global, local or personal. War serves only death.

The quest for peace is a complicated and endless pursuit. I ask myself – and each of you – to renew that quest today by harboring peace in our own lives. Refuse to solve conflicts by aggression. Look beyond the battle to the person. Be an agent of mutuality not of domination. Resist the normalization and glorification of violence and war, and defend their victims.

Eighty years after Hiroshima, we still see abominable inhumanity exploding in Gaza, Ukraine, Haiti, Sudan, and the immigrant communities of the Americas. We cannot be silent in the face of what we see. We are called to witness for peace and justice by our words, our attitudes, our votes, and our advocacy.

God knows our world – our streets – need this from us. If we unfold the wings of our own hearts, perhaps the crane of peace can be freed to change the world.


Music: Peace Train – Cat Stevens

For Your Reflection

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Scripture: John 14:23-27

The Amoroso Man

July 13, 2025

Italian Summer – Brian Crain

On the way to to the library today, I passed an Amoroso truck. We native Philadelphians are very serious about our sandwich rolls – and very biased. We think they’re the best in the world. For those of you outside Philadelphia, Amoroso is a local baking company famous for delicious Italian rolls. Every morning, their crisp white trucks with the red and green detailing can be seen delivering rolls all over our hungry city.

Many years ago, when I worked in an inner city ER, an Amoroso driver was brought in by fire rescue. The man had suffered a heart attack in the stifling July heat. Despite intense efforts by staff, he could not be revived.

My responsibility, after praying with him and for him, was to determine his identity and to inform his family of his death. There were only a few things in the chest pocket of his shirt, which lay ripped and tossed on the ER floor. There was a thin, well-used prayer book and an even thinner wallet with a couple of dollars, a lottery ticket, and a picture of his grandchildren. My eyes filled with tears as I laid these few items out on my desk. Here was a simple, good man’s life – faith, family, hope and responsibility. He carried what was most important to him close to his heart.

Passing the Amoroso truck today, on a warm July morning nearly forty years later, made me ask myself, “What do I keep close to my heart?”

It’s a good question, both literally and symbolically. In the space next to my heart do I have the things that most matter – faith, love, generosity, and joy. Or is there only a vacuum there, made empty by the common killers of our culture: cynicism, self-absorption, materialism, indifference, and competitiveness?

Life is short. Live it for what matters. And if you’re lucky, share an Amoroso roll to bless your journey.


Music: Simple Gifts

For Your Reflection:

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
  • What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Scripture: Proverbs 13:19-22

Memorial Day

May 26, 2025

Adagio – Samuel Barber

After my mother died, it was my sad honor to sift through our home in preparation for its sale. The long years of our family’s story had accumulated in closets, cabinets, and a few storage boxes. So many half-forgotten treasures lay hidden in the corners and niches of our now-empty home.

Among these ordinary reliquaries was one unique spot, reserved for the most precious markers on our ancestral line. It was a 19th century “games table” whose leaf folded and whose top swiveled to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside this table, in a shallow space spiced with the essence of history, lay our family’s sad and joyful relics.

Each was a treasure, but as Memorial Day dawns, I remember one in particular. The telegram had been tear-stained and folded into a three-inch square, almost as if to hold the words inside and prevent them from wounding again. Its message, like so many messages down through the ages, fell like a guillotine on the heart of another “Gold Star Mother”: “We deeply regret to inform you that your son James…”

None of our currently living family ever met Uncle Jim. But his memory lives with us. The dreaded telegram resides with me. His Purple Heart and other medals are with my brother. A cousin treasures a picture of Jim’s memorial at the USS Arizona. The story of his death on the shores of Iwo Jima saddens us. Although we never knew his presence, we have espoused his legend as part of our legacy.

But beyond his legend, we need to embrace his truth: he must have been a frightened hero, as are most heroes. He was a 19-year-old boy who loved his country and was brave enough to stand for its ideal of freedom. But he was nonetheless conscripted to an untimely death because more powerful men succumbed to the moral failures of aggression, greed, rampant nationalism, and war.


Each Memorial Day offers us the challenge to balance two eternally contradictory realities: the awesome self-sacrifice of our brave warriors against the moral imperative to disavow war as a means to peace.

Sadly, every family has its fallen and broken heroes. Their relics may rest on our mantle pieces or hide folded in our cedar-scented wardrobes. They may be creased and softened with age or as painfully fresh as the rip of yesterday’s mail.

On Memorial Day, let us remember and honor these heroes for their courage, generosity, and hope. Let us treasure their willingness to stand in harm’s way for us and for their belief that war could be won.

But let us recognize in their loss that wars are never won. War’s collateral loss — fractured bodies, stunted dreams, orphaned children, victimized women, hopeless elders, and a ravaged earth — is a price too great to pay. These expenses of war break the heart of God and God’s people. War, despite its profound costs, is a cheap answer to the failed pursuit of peace.

Let us commit ourselves and commission our leaders to do the daunting work of building true peace through honest politics, globally sensitive financial policies, mutual nation-building, and respect for human life. The sacrifice of our heroes demands it of us. The unfolded memory of Uncle Jim demands it of me.


For Your Reflection

  • What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
  • Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 

Suggested Scripture – Isaiah 2:1-5